


now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it

by Brill (HalfLight)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Drama, Gen, Sad, Spoilers - No Mercy Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfLight/pseuds/Brill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You regain control on the 167th try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Castle](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/163271) by loverofpiggies. 



> San’s dialogue comes directly from the Sans fight in Toby Fox’s “Undertale” with one slight modification. Title comes from the lyrics of “Castle” by Halsey.

_“...somewhere in there.  i can feel it.  there’s a glimmer of a good person inside of you.  the memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing.  someone, who, in another time, might have even been...a friend?”_

( **Good.  He’s weak--I can see it in the way his eyes narrow, the sweat beading on his scalp, the way his hand trembles as he readies his damned blasters.**

**I can win this.**

**I don’t even feel the beams as they hit my body, snapping, deepening the bruises already there.  I’ve got this, I’ve got this, I--**

[im so tired]

 **I--** )

It’s too late.  

He’s slipped, and you scramble back into control.  As soon as your body is yours again the knife clatters from your fingers, and you collapse.  Your legs tremble; you’re surprised you can still feel them at all.

Your sins crawl on your back.  They are too heavy to carry anymore.

“c’mon, buddy.  do you remember me?”

You hear muffled footsteps on the tile.  Your head is so heavy, and you’re so, so tired.  You can’t tear your eyes away from your faint reflection as he approaches.  You imagine him, though, with his hands tucked in his pockets, his eye crackling with magic.

“please, if you’re listening...let’s forget all this, ok?”

He stops.

“just give up, and...well, my job will be a lot easier.”

( **Kill him.  I can kill him now, just--** )

With what strength is left in your body, you lift your head.

His magic shifts from blue, to orange, to yellow and back again.  He doesn’t not move, or speak.  His smile hidden by the scarf wrapped around his neck.

Your fingers twitch; your stomach churns as you find yourself lusting for the feel of the knife’s hilt in your palm, the satisfying give of his body as the blade cuts into him.

( **He’s vulnerable.  I could do it so easily.** )

Your mouth opens.  You want to tell him about how the whoopie cushion handshake was funny, that you want to hear more of his puns, that you’d like to go to Grillby’s and get more ketchup-soaked burgers and fries.

( **He’s not stupid.  I know he won’t give me mercy.** **Not now.  Not ever.**

 **I’ve fought too hard to spare him.** )

You think about the date you had with Papyrus, lifetimes ago, about the shirt he wore and the way he hugged you when he said he’d be your friend, if nothing more.

You think about the way you cut Papyrus down, and how he’d believed in you even as he crumbled into dust.

Sorry will never be enough.

A whimper wafts out of your moth, broken and fragile.  You grip your arms as tears stream down your cheeks, trying to use your own body as an anchor before the killer claws his way out again.

...He still hasn’t moved.  Is his gaze softer than before?  Does he see it?  With what you’ve done, does it even matter?

The rest of your body slumps forward as you collapse clasping your hands in front of you, your shoulders jolting with each sob.  You lock your muscles up, feeling yourself start to slip again, and fight the urge to grab the knife.

You spare him.

“...you’re sparing me?”  His voice seems different, somehow.  Maybe you’re hearing things.

You nod.

“finally.”

He takes another step forward.

“buddy.  pal.  i know how hard it must be to make that choice.  to go back on everything you’ve worked up to.  i want you to know...i won’t let it go to waste.”

He trails off.  When he does not speak, you force yourself to look up.

He’s smiling.  He’s holding his hand out; if you squint, you can pretend the shadows are a hidden whoopee cushion.

And in spite of everything, in spite of knowing that the instant he so much as twitches his pinkie your soul will be skewered by his bones--

You smile.

“...c’mere, pal.”

He clenches his hand into a fist.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh I'll have to figure out how to do links within the text here. One day. This was pretty quick, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!


End file.
